


The game of ourselves (WillJschlatt)

by SciFell_Goddess



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Temporary Character Death, Character Death In Dream, Character Study, Dream Smp, Explosions, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, Insane Wilbur Soot, M/M, Pre-Festival, Reincarnation, The Author Regrets Everything, The Author is having a crisis, What Have I Done, What Was I Thinking?, Why Did I Write This?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:06:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27282388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SciFell_Goddess/pseuds/SciFell_Goddess
Summary: The wars were nothing but some games for those who thirst for power. There were two sides, though not "heroes and villains", but rather "the ones in control and the rest". Powerful forces rose and fell, leaving traces and wounds in the minds of the participants. There were betrayals, redemptions and corruptions that stained with tears and blood.As evidence of a past of a time, Wilbur Soot lived. He dwelled on and on about what used to be and could not accept the unwanted present. He was desperate and backed into a corner. He was miserable and broken. And he has had enough. Like an injured wolf that saw its life was threatened, no matter if tamed, its natural instinct would be to bite back the cause.Love was a complicated thing. They have had a connection, but whether it was actual love or something else, they both didn't know. The two stood with different ideals, but neither was completely good. They were powerful, yet also delicate and fragile. And now that one has been broken by the other, they shall face their wrath. Watch them lash out sheer anger upon the world and destroy it, along with themselves.Orrrrr, a WillSchlatt fic that literally no one asked for but I'm still here to deliver.
Relationships: Jschlatt & Toby Smith | Tubbo, Jschlatt/Wilbur Soot, Toby Smith | Tubbo & Wilbur Soot
Comments: 2
Kudos: 100





	The game of ourselves (WillJschlatt)

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Took place before the festival. Wilbur is more psychotic than he let on. Schlatt is even smarter than what he showed. Both are crazy in their own ways. (Happy Halloween!)

Wilbur Soot, the previous honourable leader of Manberg, or L'Manberg as he used to refer as, has lost himself in the war, watching his beloved son tearing down the walls that protected his beliefs, burning the flag, the symbol of his control over the land, _over the people,_ seeing with own teary eyes as those he put faith in slowly leaving his side, even banished from the place he used to rule, now a fugitive, a wanted criminal. It was not a surprise to witness the broken man snapped, his last string of sanity cut.

Not many know that it was not the first time. To put it simply, Wilbur Soot has never been fine...it's more like his mind was just stable enough for him to function, but unstable enough that if it was put under the right amount of pressure, would certainly crack.

_Who knew a provoked Wilbur is even worse than Schlatt himself?_

Once upon a time, Schlatt and Wilbur were friends, dared to say even partners. They had shared various memories together and cared for each other greatly. For that, the two know the other just as much as they understand themselves, maybe even more so.

Because of that, Schlatt caught the distinct look in Wilbur's eyes when he started his plan. And how it changed as his scheme was putting into play. Was it so bad that he enjoyed it so much? After all of the stress that he brought onto Wilbur's shoulder, the utmost madness that he has spiralled into was expected, though Schlatt has imagined him falling into his own desires and longed for them so dearly that it would eat him inside out and leave him in a mindless state.

But he has to change his strategy immediately upon hearing the conversation between Tubbo and Tommy. He obviously knew something was wrong the moment Tubbo excused him to rest, for " pregnancy issues'', though he must say that it was almost honourable how the teen said it with much confidence. In honesty, from what he has observed from watching Tubbo with the others, it was not an impossibility for him to be an agent or a spy for them. Will's plan was not anything he could have fathom, and it was literally suicide. With both Dream and Technoblade on Wilbur's side, Schlatt's days of ruling were in danger, not to mention his life was very much on the line.

He was thinking of delaying the festival, but it wouldn't change anything. Even if he managed to prepare something to protect himself, seeing as Dream and Technoblade, two forces to be reckoned with, together aiding in Wilbur's destruction, there is bound to be chaos.

And actually, if Tubbo is indeed a traitor, could he trust the rest? All the people that have adored and admired Wilbur and hated his gut?

_What could he even do to prevent anything?_

The day of the festival finally came. Schlatt was nervous and scared, but his mask of formality and the aura of professionalism worked well to hide them. He has planned to execute Tubbo on this event, to show the possible traitors what would happen if they don't bend to his will. Not only that, he has specially invited Techno to have the honour of doing it, to cause the rift of distrust in the rebellion, and maybe persuade him to join his side. It all happened, just not in the way he wanted. He was luckily safe from Techno's murder rampage, though only barely as he almost got hit in his vital organs. The arrow did hit his leg and he had to limp out to escape the scene, but with everyone trying to run for their lives, no one noticed him.

He saw Wilbur in the back, hands hovering on the button that would lead them all to their demise. He remembered the crazed look he possessed, as well as how his eyes weren't the warm hazel brown he had grown used to, but a dark red. And his manic grin, stretching so wide that he knew it was going to tear his cheeks apart. He remembered himself shouting for him to stop, but the sight of him only made Will more determined at his masterplan. The broken man began to laugh, though at the same time choking, tears streaming down from eyes that seemed too exhausted to cry, despite the utter insanity it showed. A part of Schlatt's heart ached painfully.

_ Then he pressed it. _

The light was spectacular. Schlatt's would have enjoyed it along with the booming fireworks, but considering everything else that it brought with it, mainly the fact that it would end their lives, he thought not. The screams only grew louder in volume. Schlatt's sensitive ears were ringing, a warm liquid pouring out from them. He was lying in the ground completely still as he learned that he has lost the ability to move. Close to him was Wilbur, probably also in the same state, is fortunately still breathing, slowly, but it was there. The pain was immeasurable, but it was starting to fade, along with his senses. It mostly was just the heat that was continuing to torment them. He looked over Will again, accidentally found his hand nearing the other's body. Using all of his leftovers strength, he reached out, surprised to see Wilbur accepting the gesture, eyes not meeting his. He mumbled something that was lost in the screaming, but Schlatt could tell it was an apology. His throat was so sore, but he managed to speak out "I-I am as well…" loud enough for the other to hear. He followed with a classic "I love you" and judging by Wilbur grimaced, they still love each other as much as they used to back in the days. They used to think that the phrase was slightly cringy and corny for their tastes, so every time they say it the two would only laugh or fake vomit. _He missed those days so much._ ** ~~But it was his fault that they couldn't return to those times, wasn't it?~~**

After a short while, black spots began to appear in their visions. Schlatt's last thing to see was the other's smile. Hopefully, Wilbur's last thing was also him. Then finally, darkness swallowed them whole. He was relieved to know that death wasn't painful.

________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Wilbur, to those that understand all, is known for his talent and hobby to create ominous wordings and even sinister ways to lure others into his plans. He manipulates and controls, yet he couldn't accomplish the same thing with himself. Schlatt is a smart man, he knows and he analyzes, he says and he proves. He does what he must but at the same time gains what he wants. Though he is weak and vulnerable against the uproar from the aftermath. Both men rose and fell, at first one must lose for the other to win, but in the end, they are with each other, death awaiting and promising peace.

**_"A mad man in a war is already dead"._**

**_"Even death won't ease the grief and bitterness"_ **

**_"Love takes many forms, rage and misery sadly being one of them"_ **

**_"Your way of loving is hating, so for you, mine is obsessing"_ **

**_"It's jarring to think about you, me, and how we could have be"_ **

**_"We are so similar that it sparked our flame of passion, but at times, I felt it's burning me alive"_ **

**_"None of us should ever lead, for we are long consumed by the poison from its bittersweet offerings"_ **

**_"...Is this power worth it? Is it worth anything? It's already too late to realize how disgusting and sickening it actually is… for us in this time at least"_ **

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Wilbur and Schlatt awaken from a busy night. They fought yesterday, and before they could get more intense, because of how worn out they both were, the two fell deep into slumber almost immediately on the ground, minds drifting to some times far away. Shot up from the cold floor, their minds are hazy as if in a fever dream. Their eyes searched the room frantically then stopped at the other's teary ones, locking gazes. Both briefly moved away, checking the other's uneven breaths and overall condition, lips glued shut. They need not the words to express their distorted and muddled emotions, as they pulled each other in a tight embrace. The silence was often dreadful, but this time it was oddly comforting.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: ...Please proceed to ignore any mistakes that didn’t logically add up. I don't play Minecraft and I wanted to get this thing finished in time for Halloween while struggling with midterms, so time is slim. (Also technically this is my first mcyt fic). So…got any comments? Constructive criticism? Please tell me, I would love to hear everything!


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